How the series was reported

The reporting is based largely on the personal recollections of the candidates themselves although information from other sources — newspaper archives, interviews with other individuals and court, military and election records — was also used.

Perched high above him on the dais, the five school board members stared down at Bob Filner, father of two, as he nervously tripped over his words at a microphone.

They were annoyed by his question about possible school closures, an issue they had discussed at a previous meeting. Hardly anyone was there as Filner explained that he just found out about their vote and second-guessed how shuttering Hardy Elementary — where his children went — would improve education.

One official snapped back that the board knew what was best for his children’s education.

Filner left insulted and infuriated.

A San Diego State University history professor and parent-teacher association president, Filner couldn’t understand why Hardy was on a list of 27 schools being considered for consolidation and closure to save money. Parents loved the school and it was jam-packed with students.

He had waited hours at the school board meeting for his allotted three minutes of public comment so he could ask a simple question. “Why are you closing the school?”

The response he received shocked him into action.

It was Nov. 28, 1978, and Bob Filner’s long career in politics — school board president, city councilman, U.S. congressman, candidate for San Diego mayor — had just begun.

•••

Few people went to San Diego Unified School District board meetings in large part because they took place on Tuesday afternoons. That wasn’t a problem for Filner. He lectured on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. His Tuesdays were wide open.

He started going to every meeting. He quickly realized the brusque treatment he received from the board was standard operating procedure.

Within weeks of his first encounter with the board, Filner assembled a coalition of parents representing 20 schools. They demanded greater parent participation in the closure evaluations and more time to study the plan.

Public hearings ensued at which school officials tried to explain their decision-making process as boos rained down on them. In the end, none of the schools was closed.

But the victory wasn’t enough for Filner. He wanted to see a change in leadership. He searched for someone to run for school board the following year, but everyone he asked said he should look in the mirror.

•••

No one could ever accuse Filner of being passive.

In 1961, the 18-year-old Cornell University student boarded a bus to Jackson, Mississippi, as part of the “Freedom Rides” for civil rights. He and others were arrested for allegedly disturbing the peace and inciting a riot. He refused to pay bail and spent nearly two months in jail.

When Filner decided to run for school board, he walked the district up to eight hours a day going door to door to visit every voter possible. Nobody knew who the heck he was. Most didn’t take him seriously. Still, Filner made a point to send a personal note afterward to each person he met.

Meanwhile, he continued to challenge the board members as a gadfly and quickly became the go-to quote for reporters looking for opposition to school board initiatives.

The seat he sought was held by incumbent Dorothea Edmiston. They were polar opposites. She was a 72-year-old conservative Republican. Filner was a Democrat half her age who had worked as an aide to Sen. Hubert H. Humphrey.

IN HIS WORDS

Filner on asking the school board in 1978 why his children’s school was closing: “They told me ‘We know what’s best for your kids’ education.’ Then I said ‘No you don’t.’ I just got really mad. They just treated me so rudely. Here I was just a parent showing up just to ask a question. Turns out they got the wrong guy mad. I went back the next week just to see if it was me, somehow, or if this was normal procedure. And it turned out they treated everybody the same way. If the public was talking about any issue, they were insulted. There were so few people in the audience so nobody knew and the press was rarely there.”

When the returns rolled in for the Sept. 18, 1979, primary, Edmiston finished first with 51 percent of the vote. Filner received 42 percent for second.

He considered it a resounding rejection given all the work he had put into the race. He thought to himself: Perhaps politics doesn’t suit me.

•••

School board primaries are held in what are known as sub-districts. The top two finishers advance to the general election for a vote in the sprawling San Diego Unified School District.

That meant Edmiston still needed to beat Filner again 50 days later.

What Filner hadn’t counted on was how scared the establishment became of him. How did this nobody get 42 percent?

Edmiston and school officials began to relentlessly attack Filner. They sent taxpayer-funded public information officers to his news conferences. They painted him as a liberal professor in mailers. She accused him of organizing a recent teacher strike and lying about her stance on issues.

Filner’s entire campaign had been based on illustrating how arrogant and out of touch school leaders were and the attacks only served to prove his theory — and boost his name recognition.

Filner also quickly learned what got the media’s attention. He held dozens of press events and kept Edmiston on the defensive by seizing issues first. For example, he opposed the demolition of Balboa Stadium and said Edmiston wanted to tear it down (she voted for preliminary work on the project but opposed it in the end).

On election night, Filner defeated Edmiston by 984 votes out of more than 125,000 cast.

Reflecting back, Filner said: “I took it as a mandate of course.”

•••

The first board meeting after he was sworn in nearly ended in fisticuffs. Filner voted against construction of a new high school in University City and the board split 2-2. He didn’t like the windowless design. Several hundred parents who had been pushing for the school for the past decade were livid at the deadlock.

The project eventually moved forward after a new board member weighed in later with the decisive fifth vote, but it was a fitting start to a four-year term that would be marked for its storminess.

Filner had won a seat but not many friends at the school district. During the campaign, he repeatedly said longtime Superintendent Tom Goodman should be fired. Now he had to work with him.

He was on the losing end of numerous 4-1 votes and he often lambasted the board’s decisions in the press. Many found him too abrasive and prone to emotional outbursts. One colleague derisively referred to him as “Dr. Filnerbuster.” Administrators ignored him so much he had to put requests in writing. They referred to his missives as “Filner-grams” that were as likely to end up in a trash bin as get a response.

Filner forged ahead, and then a funny thing happened.

•••

The 1981 election brought new blood to the board and they elected Filner as leader. The gadfly had become president.

He wielded his new influence by successfully pushing for the removal of Goodman and many of his lieutenants. He then played an active role in choosing Tom Payzant as the successor.

The popular Payzant served as superintendent for 11 years — a tenure filled with rising test scores and reforms — until he was tapped by President Bill Clinton to be assistant secretary of education.

Filner calls the hiring of Payzant the single most important decision he’s ever made for San Diego.

•••

Filner’s time on the board ended in 1983 when he gave up his seat to run unsuccessfully for City Council.

After the loss, he said he fell into a deep depression. He didn’t go out, preferring to stay inside his apartment day and night. He turned inward and examined his life. He eventually decided the only thing that made him truly happy was the opportunity to make a difference in some way.

“I had so much fun,” Filner said. “It was not laughing fun. It was that I was able to be effective in the school district. That I thought I could do this. I enjoyed it. … So I thought I’d give it another chance.”

Filner won an open council seat in 1987 and then moved on to Congress in 1993 for a winning streak that has stretched 25 years.

Today, as he outlines his plans for San Diego, Filner is fond of borrowing the George Bernard Shaw line that Robert F. Kennedy made famous — “Some men see things as they are and say, ‘Why?’ I dream things that never were and say, ‘Why not?’”

In many ways he’s still the same guy who confronted an insolent school board long ago. Only his question has changed. Why not Bob Filner for mayor?